


you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

by Sanctuaria



Series: Celebrating AoS Season 7 (with angst and hurt/comfort) [21]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, BBG FitzSimmons (mentioned), Dekesy, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. Daisy Johnson, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Philinda - Freeform, Post-Canon, a mission goes bad and Daisy questions her leadership, basically Phil and May being super proud of their daughter, but May and Coulson are there to set her straight, but minor/background, non-canon compliant, okay it’s not that minor have you met me?, philindaisy, season 7, their DAUGHTER yeah I said it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27901813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanctuaria/pseuds/Sanctuaria
Summary: “How surprised do you think she’ll be?” Phil asked from the co-pilot’s chair beside her, his voice a bit crackly as it came through her headset. The suit-and-tie look of Agent Phil Coulson was gone, stashed in the back of their shared walk-in closet somewhere to be pulled out only for guest lectures and funerals, and thankfully the former had happened a lot more than the latter, lately. He was just Phil.In a Captain America t-shirt, because…Phil.
Relationships: Deke Shaw/Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Series: Celebrating AoS Season 7 (with angst and hurt/comfort) [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1764745
Comments: 19
Kudos: 55
Collections: fill the daisy/deke tag with actual content 2020





	you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [edgeoflights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/edgeoflights/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy the Philinda content, El <3
> 
> This was written during s7 but before the finale, and so a few of the details about post-canon are no longer canon compliant, such as non-empath!May. Also, I wanted Director Daisy Johnson, and I will die on that hill ;)

The Quinjet’s engines hummed under her seat, increasing in intensity as she adjusted the throttle. May enjoyed the way the plane responded under her fingertips, eyes skating across the many buttons and dials, the small swoop in her stomach as they rapidly gained altitude. There were some things she didn’t miss about S.H.I.E.L.D., namely the injuries, beating back world-ending events with her fists (or once, memorably, a shimmering blue sword), or watching her friends and colleagues and teammates give their lives for the cause and become nothing more than a plaque on a wall. She didn’t miss the slightly-off taste of food cooked on the Zephyr day-in and day-out, or the endless maze of gray walls of the Lighthouse, or her morning tai-chi getting interrupted by the sound of an explosion from the lab that she probably should investigate.

(She hadn’t thought there was anyone more dangerous to a lab space than an excited FitzSimmons in their Academy days, but that was before she’d met the walking, talking— _so much talking_ —combination of their genes and those of some belligerent space marauder.)

There were things she couldn’t-quite-miss-yet as well—sparring, solving tactical problems, putting a new group of wide-eyed trainees through their paces and seeing the spark of fear in their eyes as Melinda May passed in the hall. Teaching part-time at the new S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy kept that at bay, at least.

But there were things she did miss, and flying was one of them. Daisy, of course, was the first.

“How surprised do you think she’ll be?” Phil asked from the co-pilot’s chair beside her, his voice a bit crackly as it came through her headset. The suit-and-tie look of Agent Phil Coulson was gone, stashed in the back of their shared walk-in closet somewhere to be pulled out only for guest lectures and funerals, and thankfully the former had happened a lot more than the latter, lately. He was just Phil.

In a Captain America t-shirt, because…Phil.

“I don’t know,” May replied in a measured voice, tilting the throttle and bringing them up to altitude. “Has Deke Shaw learned to keep a secret in the last two years?”

“He left Simmons’s implant a secret for…” She glanced sideways at him, watching the scrunch of his nose as he thought back. “…Wow, three days? Felt like it was a lot longer at the time.”

“That entire mission felt much longer,” May intoned. “But he _was_ the one to quietly clear her schedule.” Her opinion of _Deke Shaw_ was evident in her voice, though she had to admit her impression of him had smoothed over the years. Due to one reason only, really.

For his part, Coulson snorted. “ _Clear her schedule_ ,” he said. “As if that could ever happen for the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

May let one corner of her lip twist upward. “Maybe Daisy runs a tighter ship than you did,” she suggested.

“May, that’s mean,” Phil told her, mock hurt and indignation in his blue eyes as he pouted at her.

“You taught her well,” May shrugged.

“Me? You were her S.O.,” he replied. “You taught her how to be an agent.”

“You taught her what it means to be an agent in the first place, and that she wanted to be one,” May countered, checking their flight path and adjusting their trajectory slightly. There was always Fitz’s autopilot, but what was the fun in that?

God, she had become soft in retirement. Now she did things for _fun_ , and she knew exactly who to blame.

“You were the one with her when she got her powers, teaching her control,” Phil pointed out.

“And you were her role model, in how to be a good Director,” May replied, calm and matter-of-fact as ever.

“Are we really arguing about who is more responsible for the amazing agent and Inhuman and Director our daughter’s become?” Phil asked. “Because that’s kind of sad. And kind of sappy.” He poked her in the side with one finger, causing the ghost of a smile to appear on her face against her will. “Very sappy for you, Mel.”

“What can I say? I’m retired,” May bit out. She glanced sideways at him. “And it’s better than arguing over who’s her favorite parent.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I let her drive Lola. No contest, Mel, sorry.”

“I taught her to fire a semi-automatic.”

“Fair point.” The smile slipped from his face, only to return full-force a moment later. “I’m so proud of her, May.”

“Me too,” she said, a familiar warmth flooding her chest at the thought.

“She’s been through so much, lost so many people,” Phil continued. “Lost herself, once or twice.”

“But she’s always come back stronger,” May finished.

“And she still has that huge heart, the same one Skye walked onto the Bus with.” His blue eyes shone, and, like her, she knew he was remembering bushy-tailed Skye bounding around their Bus, calling him _AC_ and shouting “Bang!” when she pulled the trigger. “Despite everything she’s been through…”

May nodded; nothing more needed to be said on that front, those memories were all too familiar to her. She eyed the GPS then sent the Quinjet into a gentle bank to the right, bringing their heading directly toward the small town of River’s End, some two hundred miles ahead of them.

“Although there is one thing I wish we could change about Daisy…” Phil prompted, attracting her attention as he slid the headset off next to her, setting it on upper part of the control panel out of the way.

“Mm?” she hummed though he could no longer hear her.

He stood from the chair, then shifted two steps over to stand behind hers, his hands finding her shoulders before sliding downward to embrace her in a hug from behind despite the bulky pilot’s seat. His breath tickled her neck as he nuzzled the side of her face, sliding her headset off one ear to whisper, “We can’t embarrass her when we do this.”

May snorted, eyes half-closing as she tilted her head back, speaking loud enough for him to hear above the wind noise. “She likes it too much.”

“I became a father; embarrassing your adult daughter through light PDA with her mom is supposed to be one of the perks,” Phil complained, though it didn’t sound much like complaining.

“Should have put it as a clause in the adult adoption papers before you signed them,” May told him.

“She’ll never let what happened on that Confederacy ship go. It is _not_ the story I want told at every team Christmas,” he said, and May gave up at the look in his eyes, hitting the button to activate autopilot. Some things—a few things—were better than flying. “Certainly not Maisie-appropriate.” His thumb stroked the bottom of her jaw, sending warm tingles down her spine. “Guess we’ll just have to get it all out of our system before we get there if we don’t want an overly excited audience.” He leaned in to kiss her, his lips warm against hers and slightly chapped from all the time they were spending on beaches these days. Her fingers grasped at the hem of his Cap t-shirt—still not quite as good as a suit collar, but she’d take it—pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss, her headset slipping further until it was barely covering one ear.

It crackled anyway, cutting into the warm haze with Phil in a burst of static. “Coulson, May. Are you on your way in?” Deke’s voice was distressed, desperate, sending a cold chill throughout May’s body. _Daisy?_ “Please tell me you guys are on your way?”

Coulson slid back, her sudden unresponsiveness cluing him into the fact that something was wrong. She jammed the headset back on fully. “Deke, we’re flying in now. What’s happened?”

“Daisy—” he said, and May felt her heart stutter to a stop in her chest. At the ashen look on her face, Phil grabbed his own headset, her own fear reflected back at her. “—the mission. It went bad. Really bad. I have to—” It cut out. “—just get here as soon as you can.” There was another crackle of static.

“Deke?” May demanded. “Agent Shaw!” Her fingers found the throttle and she pulled back on it sharply it, feeling herself be compressed against the back of her pilot’s seat as the Quinjet shot forward. They were still a hundred fifty miles out.

“How fast, Mel?” Coulson asked.

“Fifteen,” she replied, knuckles white against the throttle.

“If she was…” She didn’t even have to look at him to know what he was about to say, to imagine the fear etched across every line in his face. “It wouldn’t have mattered when we got there; he wouldn’t have said to come quickly. She’s…”

_Bleeding out._

_Comatose, pale skin and blue lips._

_Tortured and drained, calling out for them._

_Gone._

“Doesn’t mean anything,” May ground out through clenched teeth. She concentrated on the GPS readings, the wind speed, the open blue sky in front of them. She concentrated on crushing her fear down into a tight little ball inside her chest, to be mined and saved and finally unleashed in a beautiful explosion of violence on whatever or whoever had dared hurt Daisy.

 _(“Wish I knew how to use that hate-fu.”_ She had been so _young_ back then.)

But that was after.

After May was whatever Daisy needed.

Assuming Daisy still _needed_ at all.

* * *

Melinda May and Phil Coulson stormed off the Quinjet the moment it touched down at the Lighthouse, only spurred on in their fear by the fact that no one was there to greet them on the landing pad. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, and she lunged for the first agent they came across. “Director Johnson?” she demanded.

“Um, A-Agent May, I’m not sure—”

“May!” came a shout down the hallway, and she turned to see Deke running toward them. He skidded to a stop next to them, panting. “Coulson.”

“Daisy?” Phil asked from beside her, the tremor and urgency in his tone giving voice to everything May refused to let herself show.

“Deke, is she hurt?”

“No,” he gasped out. “She’s not injured. Mission—mission went bad though. There were…casualties.” He beckoned toward them and they followed him without question, the adrenaline rush not quite fading from May’s veins as they hurried through the maze of hallways. Instead of heading for Control or the Director’s office, he turned down the hallway that led to the bunks, coming to an abrupt halt in front of Daisy’s and holding out a hand in front of them. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. “It was a bit touch-and-go there, but she’s just…taking it hard. And you guys…well…”

“We’ll talk to her,” Phil said, laying a hand on Deke’s arm. “Thank you for calling us.”

Deke nodded. “I’ll just go deal with cleanup while Daisy takes a minute,” he said, heading off down the hallway. Phil and May glanced at each other, then he knocked softly on the door before pulling the handle and pushing it inwards. The room was dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner, but Daisy sat on the edge of the bed facing away from it, ensconced mostly in shadow. She was hunched over her knees, staring at the fingers poking through the sleeves of her gray sweater, not wearing her Quake suit as May had expected.

“Daisy,” Phil said softly, walking into the room with May at his shoulder. Her head shot upward, turning to face them with shock and surprise written all over her face. Despite herself, only this final sight of Daisy, whole and unharmed, calmed some of the frantic pumping of May’s heart.

“Deke called you?” Daisy asked, gaze sliding between them. “You—you didn’t have to come. I’m fine.” She pulled the sleeves back down over her hands and crossed her arms, twisting on the bed to face them more fully.

“We were already coming,” Phil told her, going to sit down by her side. Daisy didn’t shift away, but she didn’t lean into him, either. “It was going to be a surprise. Deke only sped us up.”

“We’ll always be here when you need us,” May added, sitting down on the young woman’s other side. Well, not so young anymore, going on thirty-three, but she would always be young to May, especially when she was hurting.

“I shouldn’t need you,” Daisy told them miserably, staring down into her lap. “I’m Director now. It’s my responsibility and I have to handle it and I have to make decisions that keep people from dying and—” Her breathing was erratic by the end, just a note of helpless desperation laced into her tone.

“Daisy, you don’t have to do this alone,” Phil said, moving to put his arm around her but apparently thinking better of it and settling for tilting her face up to look at him with a gentle two fingers under her chin.

“No Director has ever done this alone,” May intoned.

Coulson nodded, eyes earnest. “I had May, and I had Fury.”

“Mack watched those videos Phil left for him for over a year after he died, only you weren’t there to see,” May said. 

Daisy shifted to look at her, meeting her eyes hesitantly through dark lashes. “He…he did?”

“Yeah, Daisy.” She reached to brush the young Inhuman’s hair out of her face, fingers pulled gently over soft, slightly curled locks.

“I didn’t want to bother you guys,” she admitted, releasing a big puff of air. Daisy looked between her and Coulson. “You’ve both been through so much and given your entire lives to S.H.I.E.L.D. and you’re finally retired and I was just pulling you back in…”

“Hey,” May said, turning her face toward her again and affixing her with a stern stare that said _I-am-your-S.O._ , _I-am-your-mother_ , and _I-am-your-nightmare-if-you-do-not-listen-to-me_ all at once. “You never think like that. We’re not here for S.H.I.E.L.D., we’re here for _you_. And there’s nowhere else we’d rather be.” 

“I love you guys so much,” Daisy choked out, ducking her head again before burying her face in May’s shoulder, pulling Coulson in by the shirt with her free hand until they were all squashed together in some sort of group hug. This was Daisy, so of course they were.

Phil smiled sadly at her over the top of Daisy’s head.

“We love you too,” he whispered. After a few more moments, Daisy pulled away, wiping her eyes on her long sweater sleeve. She shifted so she was sitting cross-legged on the double bed, and May and Phil copied her movements until they were sitting in a triangle atop the covers, Daisy and May on either side and Phil against the headboard. He adjusted a pillow so that he wasn’t sitting directly on it, frowned, then held up a lemon for Daisy to see.

“Deke thinks he’s…funny,” Daisy mumbled, though the corner of her lips twitched.

Exchanging a glance with May, Coulson reached over and set the lemon on the nightstand. May looked around at all the small signs of cohabitation in the room and then down at the sheets she was currently sitting on and decided she really, really didn’t want to think about it.

“Okay,” Coulson said, his tone impossibly gentle. “You want to tell us what happened?”

“He didn’t say?” she asked, before returning her gaze to her hands, fingers playing with the edges of her sleeves. “The mission. Things went bad and the only ones close enough to help were…were Agent Bailey and her team.” May waited, her face carefully impassive. It wasn’t the first time that they had lost agents, not that it ever got any easier. It wasn’t the first time _Daisy_ had lost agents. “They rescued them, they made it out, but Agent Bailey…” Daisy swallowed. “She wasn’t even supposed to be in combat, her protected status started tomorrow…” She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, as if that would make the words come easier. “Her wife, she just got pregnant. They’d been trying for ages, and…”

“Daisy…”

“And it was me that sent her in, you know?” Daisy looked across at Coulson helplessly. “It was my choice and my decision and I made it and now their kid is only going to grow up without a mom—without one of their moms—and I have to tell her wife that…that I let this _happen_ …”

“Oh, Dais,” Phil said reaching for her hand and squeezing it tightly. “That’s terrible, but it’s not your fault.”

“I know,” she blinked, tears coating her dark lashes. “I _know_. Bailey was an agent and she went in because that’s what she signed up for but it doesn’t make it any easier. But as Director I can’t just—” She made a wide gesture with her hands, indicating _this_ , _this_ , _all of this_. “—run away, or not be able to handle it when we lose someone. I should be out there handling cleanup, greeting the team when they get back in an hour, doing everything I’m supposed to do, not be in here, doing—” Another wide, helpless gesture.

“When did Agent Bailey die?” May asked. Daisy turned to look at her with unfocused eyes, her mouth slightly open in confusion. “At the beginning or the end of the mission?” she prompted further.

“Beginning,” Daisy said. “She was gunned down almost the minute they stepped through the door.”

“And what did you do?” May asked calmly.

“I…” The confused expression wavered. “I…stayed in Control,” Daisy said, and despite her sorrow for the lost agent, May felt a warm burst of pride bloom in her chest. That was their Daisy. “I oversaw the rest of the op.”

“You saw the rest of them out safely,” Phil said. “You didn’t falter, or bail, you stayed until the op was done. Until they were on their way back and it was out of your hands.”

She gave Daisy a knowing look, passive and gentle and holding all of the hurts Melinda herself had ever felt, laid bare for Daisy to see. To see she wasn’t alone. To see that May had felt this way too, trying every day to protect this team she and Coulson had built, and dying a little inside each time she had failed, because though it would continue to hurt the only way to protect them was to _care_. “Caring about the people under your command…that’s what makes you good at it.”

“It’s why I always thought you would be good for the welcome wagon,” Coulson told her, the reminder of those halcyon days bringing a small, tentative smile to Daisy’s face. “And later, after S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, why I always knew you would be a good Director. Before I died—”

“Which time?” Daisy chortled weakly, and May knew they were getting through to her.

“Before Talbot,” Phil amended, “you said that Mack should be Director because he had the biggest heart. But that’s not true, Daisy. Yours has always been just as big.” He stared at her straight in the eyes. “You’ve done an amazing job as Director. Recruitment is at its highest, you have good footing with the UN and the American government is no longer hunting you down, which is never a given and always a plus.”

“I have an amazing team around me,” Daisy said, ducking her head.

“A team that trusts and respects your leadership,” May replied. “We couldn’t be more proud.”

“And it’s okay to not be okay, to take a minute when you can and to ask for help,” Coulson told her. “The hours I spent with Fury’s toolbox, or talking things through with May—”

“Me informing you of how stupid you were being,” she reminded him. “ _Theta Protocol_.”

He gave her a sheepish look. “Yes, also that. The point is—the Directorship isn’t something you take on alone. Never has been.”

There was a soft knock at the door, then Deke poked his head inside, his eyes taking in the sight of the three of them seated in a triangle on the bed. Upon seeing him, Daisy reached her hand out toward him, and he crossed to her side of the bed immediately, a small package tucked under one arm. She caught his hand with one of hers, then leaned in, resting her head lightly against his chest. “Thank you,” she murmured.

An impossibly soft look on his face, he removed the object underneath his arm and held it down to her. Usually, Deke Shaw alternately looked at Daisy Johnson like she set all the stars in the sky and like she could quake his ass up into them if she needed to, and May had to admit that’s exactly how she wanted any boyfriend of Daisy’s to look. But now he just looked protective. Empathetic.

And somehow that meant even more.

“Fresh from the lab,” he said as she took the wooden plaque, a metal S.H.I.E.L.D. logo set into the middle of it. Her fingers traced over the letters. “Engraved it myself.”

Daisy looked up at him wordlessly, a million things unsaid in her eyes as she merely squeezed his hand. “Okay,” she said. “Okay.” She looked at Phil. “I have a phone call to make, and a letter to write. Would you…would you sit with me while I draft it?”

“Of course,” he replied, reaching across to link his hand with May’s. “Whatever you need, Daisy. We’re here for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback appreciated! <3
> 
> With this, I'm marking this season 7-centric series as complete, but that doesn't necessarily mean there won't be another if inspiration should happen to strike! I just don't have any ideas at the moment :)


End file.
